The Virus and the Rose
Edward Steichen, ‘Heavy Roses, Voulangis’ (1914).
I mentioned in an earlier blog that a local municipal authority in Japan announced last year that it would be snipping off thousands of rosebuds in a public park in an attempt to stop people congregating to admire the flowers when they bloomed in early May, thereby encouraging the spread of Covid-19 [1]. It is now exactly one year since I read that news.So far, I haven’t read that similar dramatic measures are being taken in Japan this year. But the anxiety over roses extends, of course, to all the other beautiful springtime displays put on by nature in coordination with humanity, such as of tulips, bluebells and cherry blossoms.
As have mentioned already, I was writing a book about the ‘queen of flowers’ called ‘By Any Other Name. A Cultural History of the Rose’. It is now finished, and will be published by Oneworld later this year. What are we to do with roses during a viral pandemic? The safety measures in Japan were fortunately newsworthy because of their extreme and perverse nature, but nevertheless they highlighted for me the special power the rose has to compel our collective attention, but also the depths of cultural crisis into which we have fallen.
The rose embodies the promise of happiness. It is special amongst flowers because it is an all-pervasive metaphor and symbol, but also a much-loved garden plant, which amounts to a singularly benign image of a hopeful future. A symbol of hope is part of a shared ancestral language that is loaded with meanings and values that are difficult or impossible to formalize, and that help us cope with conflict, misfortune and trauma. Emily Dickinson called hope ‘the thing with feathers’, but let’s call it the ‘thing with petals and thorns’. A beautiful flower like the rose helps us believe that no matter how dark the world seems today there will be a better tomorrow. It channels thoughts and feelings of meaningfulness, purpose, happiness and joy.
Our current worries about enjoying displays of roses throws into sad relief the impact of the pandemic on the fundamental human need for things like beauty, sociability, conviviality, sharing and loving.
[1] McCurry, J. ‘“Very painful”: Japan Covid-19 officials cut off thousands of roses to deter gatherings’, Guardian online, 24 April 2020, www.theguardian.com/ world/2020/apr/24/very-painful-japan-covid-19-officials-cut-off-thousands- of-roses-to-deter-gatherings